Sunday, January 26, 2014



Falling from the skies like puffs of cotton
Covering everything that is dead and rotten
Resting gently atop the hibernating trees
Crystalizing as the nectar of the honey bees

In a warmer state in turns to rain
The wet cold water reminding you of life’s daily pains
Gushing as it cascades down the concrete curbs
The eyes softly close as the bones observe

Inside the brick walls humanity looks on
In the shadows, visible are the myriad of imaginary swans
Pure is the world buried in white
Glistening like stardust as the sun rests in its twilight

Thank you,
Joseph Pede

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